The Fallout...of marriage.

My hubby is a gamer. Me, not so much. I mean, I can play games like Luxor, or Zuma, or Peggle, but I can not imagine creating a character and playing for hours, days, weeks, months...or years. Yes, I am talkin' directly to you WOW-freaks. Although this rant is really about the new Fallout.

Here's the story, my husband waits for months for this game to come out and pays for it waaaaay in advance so that he can get it in a little lunchbox carrier. I laugh so I don't cry...LOL.

However, it truly is funny when he is playing. I tend to go to bed and read, so when he appears from out of his office(game room)...I normally get a kiss, and ILY, and some random comment that I know has to relate to the game. For instance, last night, he was looking for a pressure cooker. Well, we don't own a pressure cooker, so I proceeded to ramble thru my mind about where I could find one and what in God's name he needed one for...LOL...and then, as always, I figured it had to do with the game. And it did.

I don't mind that he likes to do this sort of thing, though. I'm sure I have blogged or ranted about this before and like I always say, "he could be out doing something far worse", so I'll stick to having this sort of Fallout when it comes to being married.

Mrs. B :o)

Halloween Homecoming

What school in their right mind would have a homecoming game on Halloween night? Well, notice I said "school in their right mind"...LOL...and it was US.

I'm just going to right a few lines tonight. (It was cold and I'm now tired.)

It was a great night, almost half of my cheerleaders were in the court and they all looked stunning. They looked like cute little women all dressed up with no place to go...my school does not have a Homecoming dance. How lame is that? (Let me answer my own question...VERY...LOL.)

Still the weather was perfect, slightly above a normal chill, but great for a fall evening. I wish my husband and children could have been there...then it would have been perfect.

cold and sleepy,
Mrs. Boyd

Carving Pumpkins

I like Halloween, but not b/c of the dress-up day or the candy. I LOVE to carve pumpkins. It has become "kind of a big deal" around here. For several days before carving day, we search on-line or in our own books for patterns. We mull it over during dinner. We discuss it with Mr. Chad's parents(...LOL...they carve them, too.).

This year, though, I did not have to think hard about what I was going to carve. I knew, though not original, I was going to honor my new position as math teacher and carve a PI sign on my pumpkin...get it Pumpkin PI...LOL.

Anyway, it was cute (as seen above), but more than one person asked what it was.(...are you kidding me?) True, it was not the man in the moon, or the grim reaper, or crazy jack-o-lantern face, but it was the one symbol you should have learned in high school math. Funny as it may seem, I was actually going to put 3.14159 underneath the symbol, but I thought that would take from the humor.

For me, the only down-side to carving pumpkins is not always having the girls here to carve when we do, but I know, I'm sure, their dad enjoys doing this with them, as well as I do...and that's what co-parenting is all about. (At least, I tell myself this to keep from crying...LOL.)

Honoring the Great Pumpkin year after year,
CBB

Lilly Cornett Woods

My first field trip as a teacher was to a place called Lilly Cornett Woods (LCW). Although, I grew up in eastern Kentucky, I was not much of a hiker or explorer in these mountains, but when I came home again in my 30s, I discovered this place and fell in love with it.

According to Eastern Kentucky University's website, Lilley Cornett Woods, the first and one of the largest protected tracts of old-growth forests in eastern Kentucky, is a Registered National Natural Landmark by the U.S. Department of Interior. The Woods is used primarily for base-line ecological research and advanced undergraduate and graduate instruction by the University, Division of Natural Areas, Eastern Kentucky Environmental Research Institute and other institutions of higher education. Public use is limited to guided tours in this unique forest.

In fact, you must make an appointment to hike the property and only guided tours are allowed. (It is a beautiful place, but I would not want to get lost in there...I always look around when I am there b/c I'm afraid someone will wander out like on M. Night's movie, The Village....LOL.)

Anyway, it was great day for the kids, they hiked, played in the creek (OK, so they looked at lifeforms in the water), watched a falconer, learned about rabies and raccoons (ooh, ooh I'm a rabid squirrel...LOL), and most importantly to them...they missed a whole day of school. :o)
...and that was kind of nice for me, too.

reflecting on Walt Whitman,
Mrs. Boyd

My Warm-Up...Mrs. Boyd

OK, OK...so I'm not in full regalia, but I did have on my warm-up jacket...and there is a funny story to this. During the game, I couldn't help but keep looking at the embroidery on the jacket...LOL. Right there, in plain sight was my name--Mrs. Boyd.

Yes, I've been Mrs. Boyd for a few months, but there are always those "A-Ha" moments, and this night was one of them. I was so proud just sitting there in my Lil' blue LC jacket. The only time I ever remember feeling this giddy over clothing was probably back in the day, when I got my Beaver Creek Beavers jacket. (Yes, that's a little shout out to my hometown.) I'm sure my husband loved it, though he never said anything, b/c he would gladly have my "new" name stamped on my forehead for everyone to see...LOL.

Anyway, it was just another happy moment in my pretty-good life and I just wanted to share it with y'all.

Mrs. Boyd

Not the son of a preacher man...but close.

You could have never told me that my cousin, Jr. Boy , would grow up to be a preacher. However, there were many signs of the possibility as far back as I can remember.

He was smart and articulate--so he would never be dull in the pulpit.

He could scream and shout with the best of them--so he would always have a voice.

He was very self-assured--so he would make a good leader...

BUT...

he was NEVER humble...LOL.
His father was, and even though HE never possessed those traits mentioned above that his son had, he taught all of us the best lesson--A GOOD HONEST MAN CAN SLEEP AT NIGHT.A lesson we all learned, especially Jr. Boy, by watching.

Uncle Solmo, as I called him,never told us some fable from a book, nor did he compare himself to anyone as an example, nor was he likely to pass judgement on anyone...and we learned from him, merely by observation. I guess, technically, he was the closest man in my life to a father figure.

I loved spending the night at their house. It was so very normal. My Aunt Em cooked and was always redecorating or renovating (still does the same thing to this day), Jr. Boy had books, records (yes, folks--good ol' 45s) and toys that I didn't, and Solmo was a working man. Dinner was ready when he got home, he controlled the TV until bedtime, and we had to be quiet because "he worked".

Anyway, I have always thought that I knew at least 2 people, other than my granny, that would make it to Heaven...my Uncle Donnie, a preacher from Tennessee...and my Uncle Solmo, a teacher from the heart--a man who taught me the best lesson ever: Lead by example.

I fall short in so many ways, but I try...and if, I'm sorry--when I fail, I get up and start all over...day after day, because maybe someone is learning from me the way I quietly learned from Uncle Solmo. God grant me the strength to prevail.

CBB

O Brother, Where Art Thou?

I could write today on two meanings of my title...and since I have a little bit of time, I think I will.

My little brother rarely contacts me, and that's OK. We all have "home" and "past" issues, so I don't judge him for that, but I think as we get older we have to let some things go, and become our own person and decide what is important to us. Family is the most important to me, and he is a big part of that, so I am bothered by the lack of communication. Yet, he is not the only one to blame. I do not go out of my way either for him, and I know I should. I assume he wants to live his own life without interference, so that's what I do. I let him be. Whenever he writes or calls, I do not complain and just enjoy the moment. I guess for me it conjures up a literal sense of questioning when did my baby brother become a grown man.

The other part is a more physical idea. "Where" is my little brother? Yes, I know he lives in Memphis, but I have never seen his place, slept on his couch, or had a cook-out with him on his own back porch. My children and I have called ahead to stop and see him, maybe take him and his wife out to dinner, but either no one answers or they don't call back until you're in another state. I now no longer make the effort. For now, I will settle for seeing him on special occasions or during the holidays.

My love for him never changes, regardless of when or where I see him.
Peace out, Bunny!

CBB